Food · Inanity · Writing

The Life and Death of a Chocolate Bar

I see her prowling the aisles, trying to decide what her pick of the day. She comes in here three or four times a week for a sugar fix, usually after she returns from her job. She looks tired, but her eyes gleam as they run over the shiny wrappers. She takes her sweet time deciding what to buy. You can almost see her calculating and weighing the options in her head.

“Pick me! Look at me!”

“No, pick me! I’m nougat and caramel and peanuts!”

“Pft. Who likes peanuts? She wants walnuts and raisins!”

“Oh, you guys, you know she wants a piece of lil’ white me.”

“Oh shut up. Everyone knows white chocolate isn’t really chocolate.”*

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